


A Bad Trip

by ghettoassenglishman



Series: AU's FOR YOU [6]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Real World, Alternate Universe - The French Mistake, Based off The French Mistake, Confusion, Cutesy, Fluff, M/M, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 18:03:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3738283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghettoassenglishman/pseuds/ghettoassenglishman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Ian cracks his neck, clicking on one link below the video. "So, you're Noel Fisher, and I'm, er, Cameron Monaghan. They are two actors in the show shameless or something."</p><p>For my lovely Anon prompt: "could you make a spn au where ian and mickey end up in an alternate universe together and they're actors cameron and noel who work together on shameless :)"</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bad Trip

**Author's Note:**

> I LOVED THIS!!! I BASED IT OFF THE EPISODE AND HOPE ITS OKAY??? 
> 
> Prompt me: im-an-angel-y0u-ass.tumblr.com

"Take your fucking time, man!" Mickey yells from his burrow of blankets. "Stop fussing and get your ass to bed, Jesus." It was pretty frustrating when he wanted to sleep after being on the go all fucking day - and it didn't help when Ian stood in the bathroom for over ten minutes, most likely jerking off or checking out his hair (because apparently Ian had to look good even when he slept, not that he needed to take ten minutes of his life trying to make that happen.)

"You don't have to wait for me to go to bed, you know?" Ian mumbles, sluggishly exiting the bathroom to where he slowly slipped out of his sweats. "I can see in the dark, you ass, just turn out the light and close your eyes." Mickey would love to kiss that smart-mouth off - if he wasn't as tired as he was.

"What are you, a cat?" Mickey snorts, huffing as Ian jumps onto the bed way too enthusiastically. "Now shut up and let me sleep, asshole." He turns over to his side, facing away from Ian, just waiting for the redhead to grab him by the waist and pull him towards him. Instead Ian giggles.

Ian tries his best, he really does, to block his laugh into the pillow. Mickey grunts and tries to pull the pillow further underneath him - but that was the issue with spooning, and sharing a pillow, Ians head seemed heavy and it wouldn't budge. "Gallagher." Mickey sends him a warning, his voice hard.

"Milkovich." Ian plays back, trying to stifle his giggle into Mickeys back. The older boy uses his last ounce of strength to bring his foot back and kick Ian in the shin. "I swear to fuck." He mutters, closing his eyes again - fuck Ian and his adorable laugh. Just fuck him.

"Alright, Alright. I'll shut up." Ian gives in, letting out a dramatic breath, he finally grabs Mickey around his waist and pulls him towards his chest. Mickey can literally feel his grin against his back but he's to tired and its too humid to deal with that shit. He can deal with it in the morning.

\--

Mickey groans as his eyes flutter open - he doesn't yet register that he's in a single bed until he turns over and falls straight to the ground. "Fuck!" He yelps, landing against something hard - that wasn't a shoe, or Ians stupid collectables, it was the floor. But it wasn't his bedroom floor, where the fuck was he?

"What the fuck?" His eyes finally adjust to his surroundings - Nope, definitely not his bedroom. There are bags, alot of bags, and clothes hung up against the door. Quickly stepping up he sees he's in the same clothes he had slept in - had Ian moved him? Was this one of his fucking tricks?

There are alot of voices outside, all way too loud for morning - alot of people lived in the Milkovich house, but not that many. "Ian?" He calls out, confused. That's when he finally gets it - Was he in a fucking trailer? He moves around, flicking through stuff, scanning the strange place he had woken up in. Yes - this was definitely a trailer. Where the fuck did Ian get a trailer from? He grabs a shirt from inside of a duffel, and goes for the door - ready to kick Ians house for chucking him in Sammis worn out trailer.

As he opens the door, he's not sure what to expect but it definitely wasn't stairs. He tumbles like a bag of bricks, landing onto concrete at the bottom of them. That's when he hears rushed voices, a stampede of feet. "Noel! Oh god, Noel are you okay?"

Mickey looks up from his fallen position, his eyes landing on four people with ear pieces - who the fuck needed ear pieces? "Noel, who the fuck is Noel?" He asks, unaware of what was going on. If this was Ians big trick he was going to kick his ass later.

"Oh god, I think he's hit his head. Get one of the medicals, tell them one of our actors have fell." One woman called frantically into her ear piece. "Get him up, come on." One man tried to grab onto his arm and he rushed to push it off.

"Fuck off, I can get up myself." Mickey grunts, narrowing his eyes are the ridiculous people forming around him. "Ian, where's Ian?" He looks around, waiting to see the redhead and finally get his ass back - after kicking it for one) letting this happen. Two) for leaving him in some strange trailer.

"Don't you mean Cameron?" One person asked, Mickey looks up squinting. Cameron? "He's in make-up, where you should be in abo-" she looks at her wrist, a huge watch around it. Now, Mickey knew that no one could walk around with that, especially in this neighborhood. "Now actually, okay okay. Get him in make-up, he's on set in an hour."

Without his need, someone grabs his arm and he finds himself being dragged over to what looked like a set. "Make-up, why the fuck do I need make-up - Get the fuck-" he notices Ian, he looks uncomfortable in a hairdressing chair - "Ian?!" The rest look confused, but a little amused, when Ian turns abruptly from his seat and literally runs to him.

"Mick?!" He pushes the two of them to the side, his chest rising and deflating too quickly than it should. "What the fuck, I've got Make-up on, what the fuck." He wipes his hand against his face, frantically showing Mickey the stuff they had ploughed onto his face. "Why would I need Make-up?!"

"Calm the fuck down." Mickey tries to assure him, glancing back over to the others in the room who didn't look too impressed. Then he notices a gut against Ian's face, "wait, what the fuck is that?"

Ian shrugs, before he realises what Mickeys going on about. "They painted that shit on me, like why would I need a cut? Who even are these people?" Ian runs a hand through his hair, he looks to Mickey for answers - and Mickey wished he could just tell him what the hell was going on, but the truth was -  he was freaking the fuck out.

"I swear to god, Ian. If this is your idea of a sick joke I'mma kick-"

Ian jumps straight to it. "No. No! It isn't, I woke up in some fucking weird trailer and then this woman grabbed me and said I was on set soon?" He watches as Mickey rubs a hand down his face. "They keep calling me Cameron, who the hell is Cameron?"

"I don't know man." Mickey bites his lip, trying to think of what to do. "They keep calling me, Noel? Is someone fucking with us?" Mickey asks, hoping Ian would just say it was all a big joke and they could go home - but it seemed so real, didn't it? It didn't feel like a dream.

Ian takes on last look at the room, on the fear of break-down. He grabs Mickeys hand and pushes him out of the make-up bit. "Lets go before they see, come on!" Mickey tugs his hand back and follows the redhead to a group of trailers.

"Wait, is that Kev?" Mickey calls out, catching Kevin waltzing through like it was actually normal. "Ian, Ian!" He shouts, noticing that Ian was a fair distance away.

"What the fuck you want, we've got to go, now?" Ian shouts back, putting his hands out in a stop-fucking-around manner. Mickey shakes his head and points to Kev nearing up to them. Ian's eyes widen and they both storm over to their fellow friend.

"Kev, oh my god for the first fucking time I'm happy to see you." Mickey laughs, dodging  the smack off Ian. Kevin eyes them, looking a little creeped but happy at the same time. "Hey, Mickey. Hey Ian."

"Kev, what the fuck is going on." Ian asks, starting it off for the both of them. At least they had someone there to explain this shit. "We woke up in some trailers and people are calling us by some weird fucking names. Man just tell us you're as freaked as us."

"Shitt." Kevin drags out, scratching his beard. "I dunno know man, I just left the Albi, smoked a ton of weed, cant even see straight, man." He pats his pockets, mockingly.

Mickey lets out a sigh of relief. "thank fuck man, all these fucks have been calling is Noel or fucking Cameron, they are worse than those sieving lesbians' that moved in." Ian nods, still a little confused but he could deal with it. They had Kevin, they could at least find out where the hell the house was.

Just as everything was sorting out, Kevin starts laughing, like full-on belly laugh. Mickey and Ian exchange glances, shrugging because it was typical for Kevin to be like this, especially on dope. "God, you guys! I keep forgetting how good you are at improvising." Kevin slaps their backs -but at this point they aren't even sure if it was Kevin. "Monaghan you little tease, you know your tricks are getting better over the years, but come on? Pretending your Ian and Mickey off set, that's classic." 

Ian's mouth drops open. What the hell was going on. "Wha-t."

"I better get going guys, got my shoot in ten minutes." He smacks Mickeys back, in a way Kevin would not do - especially if you knew Mickey Milkovich. He disappears off into a small crowd and Mickey and Ian turn to each other - both angry, freaked and worn out.

"What the fuck was that?" Mickey asks, his eyebrows flying to his hairline. Ian shrugs, his hand yet again roaming through his hair. "It sure looked like Kev, Its just-"

"That wasn't Kevin, some fucker is inside of his body. I mean, he isn't wearing that fucking towel he's always slinging." Mickey is on the verge of shouting. "I tell ya , man. This shit is wired, something fucked up is going on." He gestures a crazy sign around his head, pulling Ian towards the trailer he had fell out of.

Ian sighs - this shit was freaking him the fuck out. "what's a Monaghan?"

"Some sort of fish?"

Ian rolls his eyes at Mickeys suggestion. "Fuck if I know."

\---

"Right, check every-fucking-thing. You see anything valuable put it in your pocket." Mickey orders, already ripping up chairs and searching through bags.

Ian stops what he's doing. "Mick, we ain't stealing anything. As much as we need it, this is someone's shit." He nudges the laptop against the table, the screen lighting up to some sort of youtube video. "Mick-"

"Shut up bitching, when has anything ever stopped me from stealing? Not you, not any fucker out there that's trying to turn us into drag queens. Ay - take that ashtray." He waits for Ian to snap back at him, slap him around the head, but nothing. Turning he sees the redhead hunched over the small table. "Ay, Gallagher did I tell you to fucking stop and watch porn?"

"No, Mick." Ian cuts him off, waving him over. "look, its us- well not us, them guys Noel and Cameron."

Mickey groans, knocking his head back. What was Ian even saying? "what the fuck are you going on about, lets move, lets go." He tries to pull Ian away from the table when his eyes caught the video playing on the screen. "What the fuck-"

"Yeah." Ian tuts his lips, pulling out a chair he sits by the table. Its an interview with both Noel and Cameron, they both have no idea how the two look so identical to them. "So, they think that we're them."

"Well, yeah. Wouldn't you if you fucking saw us? Jesus Christ, Ian." Mickey slaps him on the back of the head, peeping through the trailer curtains to see all the make-up artists rushing to find them.

Ian cracks his neck, clicking on one link below the video. "So, you're Noel Fisher, and I'm, er, Cameron Monaghan. They are two actors in the show shameless or something."

"Shameless, what kind of fucking name is that?"

Ian shrugs, again. "A popular one from what it looks like. They, er, huh." Ian huffs out a laugh, shaking his head towards his boyfriend.

Mickey tilts his head, narrowing his eyes. "What's so fucking funny?" He leans further into the laptop, hoping to see what Ian was laughing at.

"They play Ian Gallagher and Mickey Milkovich, this show is basically about our fucking life?" Ian explains, scratching the back of his neck as he tried to figure it all out in his mind first. This was some heavy shit.

"Why the fuck would anyone want to watch our lives?" Mickey asks, rationally. His tone now more matter of fact. Ian thought he sounded like a whimpering child, but he also teased him too much.

Biting his lip, Ian tries to come up with something. "I dunno, maybe its relatable or something. People dig that angsty shit." Ian understands Mickey though, who would want to watch their lives? It wasn't exactly Oscar worthy, or anything uplifting or inspirational.

"What's relatable about you sticking it in my ass?" Mickey quickly closes the lid at one video, that he could of guessed was a sex scene because lets face it, he was there. "Man, lets go home. I'm getting all fucking twitchy thinking about this"

"What thinking about my dick in your ass?" Ian smirks, always finding the opportunity to piss Mickey off - even when they were in some strange fucking world.

Mickey swings the door open, flipping him off. "I'm fucking twitchy about the million viewers who seen you do it, that's what."

\---

After they struggle to find the Milkovich home, it actually looks like they left it. Mickey and Ian run through into the bedroom, rummaging through the wardrobes and drawers for money, clothes and weapons. They needed weapons. Mickey grabs his hand-gun, grinning at the familiar weight. "Fuck-" he snaps, noticing that it didn't look so right.

"What?" Ian questions anxiously, frantically shoving clothes into his bag. "FUCK!" Mickey yells, kicking the chest of drawers angrily. Ian jolts around, grabbing Mickeys wrist before he turned the whole place upside down. "Mick, calm down. What's going on?"

"What isn't going on?" Mickey nods manically, biting his lip with anger. Waving his gun around he yells again. "We are stuck in some fucking weird universe, where we happen to be actors - our whole neighborhood is a television set of our fucking life - and - AND, these guns are fucking fake!" He snaps the hand-gun in his hands, the plastic falling to bits.

Ian doesn't believe him at first, he grabs the stashed guns and attempts to load them up - all of them failing to fire one shot. "Jesus Christ." He mutters, grabbing one of his knives, he storms to Mickey and presses it into his chest. "What the fuck, Ian?!" He yells, pushing his filled hands away. 

"These are fake too - fucking set props." He chucks the knife across the room, growling in annoyance. "How the hell did this happen?"

Mickey kicks the dresser again. "Someone's fucking cursed us, I bet its that bitch Sammi. She's been after us since we nearly killed her - is she a fucking witch?"

Ian snorts, sitting at the end of the bed. "Witches don't exist, Mick."

"Well neither are we by the fucking looks of things!" This was way over their head. They couldn't fix this. How could they get out? Wave a magic wand and get back - this shit wasn't make-believe. Ian flinches, putting his face into his hands.

A brief pause passes by, Ian and Mickey sat in silence - unsure of how to resolve this. Then they heard a booming voice - "Right, cameras to the left, right - make sure we get a close up of the bed in this scene. Then we ne- oh, Noel, Cameron." The guy stood, a large book in his hands, another fucking ear piece. "You're a little early, but hey - enthusiasm is the key." He pushes a camera one way and walks over to Mickey and Ian.

"Mick-"Ian whispers from behind him as the director nears. Mickey nods in a favor of saying I've -got-this. "So, today guys were going to wrap the sex scene between the two characters. Remember we're looking at something more intimate, maybe face-to-face? You guys are professionals so I'll leave it to your wits." He smacks Mickey on the back, grinning. Mickey feels all the eyes land on them, and suddenly he cant breath. Hell-fucking-no was he doing this.

Ian nudges him in the side. "We really going to do this, I mean we get a fuck out of it? Well, dry humping more like?" He generalises it like they are doing them a favor - but they weren't and mickey wasn't going to fucking dry hump Ian In front of a crew of twenty.

"I ain't fucking you in front of these, I ain't going to play myself either. This shit is weird, really fucking weird, and we-" he grabs Ians hand, finally announcing to the people around them. "We fucking quit." Ian nods, enthusiastically, squeezing his hand into Mickeys.

"What?" The director gasps, pushing through the camera men.

"I said wise-guy-"

Ian interjects before Mickey goes on a rampage. "He said, that we are not going to have sex in front of you. I'm not Cameron and he's not Noel - we are Ian and Mickey, and really - who the fuck would want to watch our life anyway? Its for us and us only, alright." He feels Mickey relax under his palm, he sighs in relief.

Next minute they knew, the director came flying before them gripping to Mickey's shirt, ready to punc-

                              ***  
Mickey shoots up, gasping as his hand flew to his heaving chest. Its dark, very dark, he cant see shit and he hopes that people would stop fucking calling him Noel. After he calms, he turns to the side to see Ian sprawled out against the sheets - drooling against his pillow. "Ian?" He whispers, hoping the fuck wasn't sleeping to heavy that night.

"Ian, hey, wake the fuck up." He shoves hard against Ians shoulder, leaning further to the redheads side. "I swear to fuck - Gallagher-" sometimes he loved that Ian was a deep sleeper, other times be really fucking hated it.

"What..-" Ian croaks out, hoarsely, rubbing at his eyes sleepily.

"What the fuck happened, how did we get back?" He gasped, watching as Ian rested up onto his elbows, confused. Mickey still didn't know how they got back, one minute a director was in his face, next minute it was back to normal. He scans the room, looking for cameras - he wasn't too sure yet.

Ian chuckles out, amused, clicking his jaw as he waited Mickeys freak out to dim. "What the hell you looking for? And get back from where, we've been here like all night. You been smoking that shit Iggy picked up again?"

"So, there's no cameras?" Mickey ignores Ian, eyes still trying to place any cameras that might lurking. How did Ian not remember? "We're not some fucking actors what they're names- Noel and er, Cameron?"

Ian scoffs, scooting closer to Mickey. One of his hands fall flat against the older boys chest, helping him calm. "No, who even are they? You sure you ain't been smoking that shit, sounds like a bad trip to me."

"No, you dick, it was really fucking real. It felt, it felt real, okay?" He shouted in a whisper, one hand trying to rub away the sweat against his head. "I dunno man, I just hope this is fucking real - not that shit."

"Well..-" Ian purrs, shifting himself onto Mickey's chest, lining their bodies together as their legs tangled. "This real enough for you?" The redhead leans down, gently nipping at Mickeys bottom lip before pressing his own against them. Mickey groans, one hand trailing up the curve in Ians back.

Maybe Ian was right - maybe he had just a bad trip - because fuck, this felt more real than any television set with aggressive make-up artists.

 


End file.
